


A Kick in the Head

by Lucky107



Series: Pride and Disgrace [1]
Category: Fallout 2
Genre: Gen, Intimidation, Swearing, Threats of Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 12:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8327107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucky107/pseuds/Lucky107
Summary: For a moment Aslaug wonders why she's even come to New Reno.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ain't That a Kick in the Head? - Dean Martin - 1960

Virgin Street, New Reno.

The entire strip is crawling with prostitutes and junkies and Aslaug's not ignorant to the figures lurking in the shadows of every standing structure.  Their small, beady eyes crawl over her body in search of valuables, just waiting for an opportunity to strike.

It's a dirty, rotten shithole of a place and for a moment Aslaug wonders why she's even come.

But she's low on funds and she's low on morale - she's been walking since Arroyo with barely a full night's rest since.  And each settlement she's come across has proven more useless than the last in her search for the elusive Vault 13.

When she feels the feather-light touch of a hand frisking her backside, Aslaug whirls around with a strong right hook and knocks loose her attacker's front teeth.  She doesn't say a word, dipping to retrieve the gold coins from the man's hand, when someone whistles a loud wolf whistle.

"A new face in town," comes a woman's voice, as thick and sweet as honey.  "I'm Miss Kitty - this is my establishment, the Cat's Paw."

She turns to find herself face-to-face with one of those beautiful pinup poster models.

"Aslaug," the tribal says before hurriedly reaching for a rolled-up magazine tucked into her belt.  Presenting it to the proprietor of the Cat's Paw, she asks, "Is this yours?"

The stranger, calling herself Miss Kitty, accepts the magazine and takes a moment to inspect the cover.  It's ratty and worn, having seen plenty of use, but there's a beautiful, albeit scantily-clad, woman on the cover.  Along the top it reads 'The Cat's Paw' in bold print.

So the tribal can read.

"Well, well.  I had heard rumors that in the prewar years the Cat's Paw was a publishing house for... pornographic materials," Miss Kitty says, thumbing through the pages with care.  "The rooms of my establishment were used for film shoots with models from across the world.  Quite a little piece of history you have here."

Bewildered, Aslaug doesn't say a word.

"If you could find a complete set of these, I'd be willing to buy them from you.  They'd make a great display; might even attract customers," Miss Kitty reasons before pressing the magazine back into Aslaug's hand.  "Would you be interested?"

With a hasty nod, Aslaug says, "Of course."  Intending to use this as a departure, she moves to step around Miss Kitty but finds herself halted by a warm, gentle hand on her taut arm.

"Ah," Miss Kitty says, wearing a mischievous smile.  "Hold on a minute, dear."

Not that Aslaug has much of a choice.

"You do have a very... _unique_ form," she acknowledges.  "I might suggest you visit a friend of mine over at the Jungle Gym.  He's always looking for new talent and...  Well, if you're going to stick around in Reno a while, it might be worth your time."

Aslaug's stony expression masks her doubt, but she dips her head appreciatively as Miss Kitty returns back inside.

\- - -

Ironically Second Street is far cleaner than Virgin Street.

Aslaug has no intentions of following up on Miss Kitty's recommendation until the blue lights of the Jungle Gym bathe the street at sundown and the offer of money becomes too tempting to pass up.

With bated breath she pushes open the front door, completely unfazed by the ripe stench of body odor and sweat that greets her.

"You lost, honey?"

The doorman is a pint-sized fellow in too-big overalls and, with an absent mind, he flicks a toothpick from his mouth as if it were a cigarette.  Aslaug bites her tongue on her immediate response and asks, "Who are you?"

"Wha...?  You ain't heard of me?"  The little man feigns a dramatic heartbreak, but he never stops smiling.  "Stuart - Stuart Little.  Biggest agent in all of New Reno.  Someone's done you a real disservice, not telling you about me, darling.  What's your name?"

"Aslaug."

"Aslaug," Stuart echoes.  "I like that - a pretty name.  It's a pleasure to meet you, Aslaug.  What can I do for you?"

In the silence that follows, Stuart allows his blue gaze to wander in the direction Aslaug is looking - toward other patrons.  He curiously surveys the room for trouble until the girl towering over him speaks: "I want to fight."

"You wanna box?"  He asks, laughter rich in his voice.  "Awright, now I've heard it all.  Look, most job opportunities in Reno for women are... hm.  Well, from the looks of it maybe those jobs weren't cut out for you—"

Without warning Aslaug hooks both of her hands into the denim suspenders of Stuart's overalls and lifts his small form right up into the air; he's as light as a feather.  "Say that again."

"Awright, awright!"  Stuart manages.  He's struggling to find the floor with the toe of his boot.  "I'll give you a damn chance, but I ain't promising anything.  If this hurts business, even a little bit, you're out.  Understand?"

Slowly, almost gently, Aslaug returns Stuart to the floor where he fretfully straightens his suspenders.  She flexes her hands in a show of strength.

"Welcome aboard, kid."


End file.
